Maybe It's Better This Way
by Fandomstyle
Summary: Drabble. kind of Destiel? Idk you'll just have to read it because I suck at desriptions. Oh, fair warning, as much as i love these characters, and as often as i write about them, I don't own any of this


The impala was parked not to far off the main road in a clearing in the dense forest around it. Stars twinkled overhead on the crisp autumn night, a cool breeze blowing ever so slightly. Dean and Sam leaned against the car each with his preferred drink in his hand. They had been there for a while, avoiding the subject neither of them wanted to speak of. The wound too fresh, the pain too new.

"D'you think he's coming back?" Dean asked the question softly. His voice barely raised above a whisper. A part of him hoping his younger brother wouldn't answer.

"Cas? Dean..."

"He can't just ditch us. After everything we've been through. He wouldn't just leave...he wouldn't."  
Sam sighed quietly. He didn't want to believe the angel was gone any more than Dean did, however Cas had said Dean and himself had shared a more "profound" bond. And, Sam supposed if he actually thought about it, Dean was more broken up about the absence of the angel. It became more apparent the longer Cas was gone. Dean would never admit it, but it wasn't all that difficult to see.

Dean looked over to his younger brother, hoping Sam couldn't read his emotions. As if they hadn't spent every waking moment together since the youngest was born, except for the few times they had died, as if Sam didn't know him better than anyone. If Dean had to guess he would probably say Sam knew exactly what Dean was feeling right now. Betrayed, disappointed, but also hurt. Hurt that the angel, who had pulled him out of Hell and rebelled and threw away everything for him, was gone.

Cas had left without a word. One morning he had been there, right beside Sam and Dean in a place that felt right, that felt like home, and the next, he was gone. He had left no indication of his leaving, no word about where he was going, no hint as to how to get in touch with him. Sure, Dean had tried praying, but it seemed the angel was blocking off all contact with the Winchesters, and had no desire to hear Dean's broken words late at night, after he thought Sam had fallen asleep. Why would he want to hear the choked "I'm sorry" or the strangled "Please, come back, Cas"? It made no sense. But to leave without a word, that was painful.

"I'm sure he'll come back, Dean. He always does." Sam reassured after a great deal of time. He chose not to focus on the negative side of the situation at hand, deciding Dean probably wouldn't want to hear the youngest Winchester's doubts about the angel's return. But Dean heard the doubt behind his words, the lack of the faith that had seemed to stick with Sam throughout everything.

"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so, Sammy. Let's go, we've got a long drive ahead of us."

The Winchesters turned and got into the impala. They sat in silence for a moment, both unconsciously sending a message to Cas, asking him to return. Dean cleared his throat and put the key into the ignition, turning on the car. Dean reached over and turned on the radio, not wanting to face the silence that would greet him without it. The familiar sound of Dean's old classic rock cassette tapes filled the car. The car pulled out of the clearing and sped of into the fog.

A figure hiding in the trees stepped out into the opening, a sad smile playing on his face. Perhaps the Winchesters would understand why he couldn't continue with them on their journey. However, he couldn't stop their prayers and each one hit him like a violent blow, knocking him back a few paces in his decisions wondering if maybe Sam and Dean would be safe even if he accompanied them, therefore dragging all supernatural beings within a 100 mile radius towards them. _No, _he decided. He couldn't risk putting them in danger. He couldn't risk hurting Dean any more, or causing Sam to lose any more faith. It was better this way: the Winchesters on one road, Castiel on another.

At least, that would be what Castiel told himself as he flew away from the clearing. The impala was driving farther and farther away, and Dean's prayers growing sadder and less sure.

_I'll always come when you call, _or at least that's what Cas had said so long ago. It didn't seem to be so true anymore.


End file.
